Monday, December 24, 2012

When I grow up, I want to be well-adjusted. Maybe even some
sort of a spiritual guide. That would be aces.

Like, if you buy a pack of bagels and they’re undercooked,
you should not get mad.

This shit is easy. When do I get a book deal?

I hope my spirit animal is a human. That shit seems
important, and I don’t want to lose anything in translation.

So, this is the issue in which we discuss the holidays. And
make dick jokes.

Here’s a new Halloween drinking game.

Shut up. Act like it’s still Halloween.

The goal is to determine whether or not the parents are in
costume or if they just normally dress like that. What you do is, the one with
the biggest juevos goes up to the parent and asks what they’re dressed as. And
if they don’t get punched in the mouth, they can still drink.

Wookie.

Drink.

This is the first year in which I walked into Rite Aid and
heard autotuned Christmas music. So I ran it through autocorrect, and it spit
out Billy Joel. Like, actual Billy Joel. What do I even feed it? Elton John’s
table scraps? And how do I get out of taking it clubbing?

Oh, wow. I, um. Hmm. I just, uh, well, I don’t know if,
maybe, that, tonight is all that great for me. I mean, I really, really want to
and we should do this sometime. But, you know, obligations, and, I have this
thing later, and I should really be, you know, these shoes, but, definitely
some other time. I, I just don’t think I should Wang Chung tonight.

Don’t you hate people who say “like” too much?

I hate people who write letters to things that can’t read.

Deer Kittehs,

Enuff wit da LOLZ
alreddy. STFU n plz GDIAF.

Xoxo,

Bono

It’s futile and a little sad.

Deer Santa,

All I want for Xmas is
my parents.

Thanks,

Some Dumb Kid

It’s not like that’s going to change anything.

Dear Kid,

Nope. Sorry. I know
I’m magical, but you wrote “Xmas,” and that’s hella lame.

GDIAF,

Santa

But I can’t promise I won’t do it in the future.

Dear Coffee,

I think you’re yummy.
Let’s make brown babies.

Xoxo,

Bono

Let’s hear it for self-fulfilling
prophecy.

Our better-known holidays seem to benefit from drawing on
other traditions. That explains why Columbus Day has yet to break out into one
that people actually give a shit about.

Let’s be honest. The little dance
of “Aww…you shouldn’t have” should be removed from all gift-receiving
situations. It’s fucking lame, and I want to know if you actually appreciate
the effort I put into it. We should replace it with something more honest.

People say “sad-sack” all the time, but no one ever says
“happy-sack.”

Look at Grant. That happy-sack. Just getting back from his
honeymoon. Let’s give him a wedgie.

Do people give wedgies anymore?

I like to make my own gift cards, because it’s more personal, and I’m poor.

Merry Christmas!

You get 1 free back
rub upon receiving 6 free wedgies.

Xoxo,

Bono

You have to earn it.

I don’t have a chimney. Santa can’t come, because then he’d roll
over and fall asleep.

Still, I’m optimistic about my gift chances.

Overall, Google has been a disappointment. They’ve mastered
email, but they have yet to attempt E Honda.

Around this time of year, we can always gauge how well our
economy is doing by counting new purchases of vasectomies.

Seriously, is there anything worse than a kid in the middle
of December? No. Santa isn’t real. Jesus is dead. And you’ll never get that Super
Nintendo you’ve always wanted.

I just got back into playing Sim City 2000. That game was
the butt sex.

I must. I must. I must increase my busses. #traffic

I hear this tends to happen, but classes seem much more appealing now that I’ve been out of school for a while.

Yes, ladies, I studied the sciences. And whenever the
professor would talk about conducting heat, I’d get really excited for a moment
and then realize that Val Kilmer was in fact not going to be making his Broadway
debut.

Since I’ve achieved grownassness, I’ve become increasingly
alarmed at the amount of people who try to sell me things using puppets and
nursery rhymes. It’s not like when I was a teenager and they used boobs to sell
me beer.

I’ve successfully reintegrated “nards” into my vocabulary,
and I feel like one of those skinny guys on TV holding up a giant pair of
pants.

If I ever go nuts and start taking hostages, you only need
to play John Denver’s Earth Songs on repeat.

Even God was like, “Dude, no more.”

Calm down. It’s not true.

Socks are fucking warm. Now that it’s legit winter, I’d like
to wear socks all over my body.

I’ll take “Things kids on E say for 500.”

If you go to any mall in America, you’ll find a fat guy with
a fake beard, and I’m still waiting for Animal Planet to accept my proposal for
Merkin Manor.

But it probably won’t happen. I blame The Apprentice.

I’m all for equality, but the Jewish Nation must have been
really fucked up to have elected a baby.

I wish I was alive back then. I give him all sorts of shit,
but I think we’d have gotten along.

“King of the Jews, meet Duke of the Nukem.”

You’re welcome, Hollywood. I know you’re working with
limited material.

It would be like Stepbrothers 2, only it would be a prequel.

Mythology is weird.

How to Tebow:

Step
1: Put your hands on your head

Step
2: Be a massive disappointment

My friend: Just watched the Giants 2012 DVD. Wow....... I am
literally in tears. All we need is the movie, with Daniel Day Lewis playing
Barry Zito.

Maybe I should start deleting people.

This is the time of year when we ponder our
existence.

Hey, I can do that, too.

Dee-pak (v):

It’s unnecessary, btw. They have bras that will do that for
you. I dated someone who would’ve been a very hot B cup, but instead she was a
magician.

But people don’t flock to me like they do with Deepak. It must be the cat
whiskers.

Or is that his way of pouring one out for Nelly?

Fashion tip: Scarves camouflage neckbeard.

Wait. We still have Nelly?

Huh.

Brunette is not the manliest term for my kind. I prefer
bruno.

I’d go straight for women.

I’ve been getting in the spirit. The other day I held an
automatic door for an old lady.

What will we call Lil Bow Wow’s kid?

Bowito.

Either that or Nano Bow Wow.

It’s your fault for reading this crap.

Honestly, the holidays are pretty boring, except maybe for

Presidents’ Day.

Hoping to give humans
immortality, Maui disguised himself as a worm
and crawled into her vagina. Piwakawaka’s laughter at the sight roused the
sleeping goddess. Closing her thighs, she crushed the worm to death.

Mythology is pretty fucked up.

Illusions, Michael.

Though we may constantly argue about our differences, this
time of year we should all set them aside in the spirit of Christmas songs
being lame. It doesn’t matter how you dress them up, they aren’t cool. Sure, I
grew up on The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album, but kids do a lot of stupid shit.

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell revenue stream.

I think in the spirit of inclusion, Christmas should give
the melodic reacharound to our dyslexic brothers and sisters.

I’m a big nerd, and I like nerdy women. If you were to show
up wearing the Princess Leia gold bikini, I’d ask if you wanted to slip into
something a little more comfortable. Because that shit is metal.

The holidays can be a lonely time for some.

But remember. When life gives you melons,
habbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbhhhh.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

A year has passed. I’m a bit older, a bit wiser. I’m
starting to get hair in really weird places, man. I feel like I’m turning into Sasquatch.

I’m at the age when I’m supposed to worry about my legacy,
so I’ve started including “penis reduction surgery” on all of my to-do lists,
just in case.

This blog is being presented to you in Gundam Style.

+8 nerd points

I like when sign wavers do the robot. It makes me hope for a
new dance craze: the pole. It’s already being done nationwide by tall white
dudes and 8th grade boys.

I wanted to donate blood for the hurricane, but Californians
would probably keep it for their greedy selves.

Plus, I don’t even know what my type is. I’m usually cool,
as long as she’s not a bitch.

I don’t ask for much, just that Justin Bieber’s real dad
turns out to be Buster Pointdexter.

Why do people call aluminum foil
“tinfoil?” They should just call it foil. It’s like calling dolphin “tunafish”
or Republicans “representatives.”

I think I just found new slang.

It’s that time again. The country is gearing up for the 56th
quadrennial Player Haters Ball.

And I am indecisive with conviction.

Bono, do you want a
sandwich?

Hell maybe!

Romney is rebooting his campaign in an effort to appeal to
the kids.

I’ve started answering my phone as if I’m a political
telemarketer, just to see how many people I can get to hang up.

It’s like Christmas for hermits.

My friend has the new iPhone, which means he has the old
iPhone. He showed me Siri, and I’m kinda jealous, except I don’t want Siri. I
want Roosevelt.

Roosevelt, what’s the
weather like?

“You got a window? Open it.”

Mitt Romney recently complained that the windows on his
wife’s jet don’t open. He obviously never saw Snakes on a Plane.

I booked a trip to Alaska,
and all my fights are nonstop to their point of connection.

California and Alaska are two very
different places. One has a city named Safetytown, the other has a city named
Yakitak.

Fingers crossed.

The kids are all raving about Bon Iver, but I don’t
know. I’m still holding out for Meh Iver.

With as many people and languages as we have, one of them
should have "Iver" mean "butt sex." If not, let’s make that happen.

I’m tired of saying “the shit.” It’s been a thing for so
long that the use of a swear to denote something good has lost its shine. We
need to evolve it into something like “the butt sex.” That’s one maybe the
Republicans won’t be comfortable saying just yet.

People are getting all paranoid about the government’s
increasing use of drones. They don’t realize that we’ve been dealing with
drones for much longer than we’ve noticed.

So, I was singing along to Nerf Herder on the radio, and
then my dad came in and said, “I think that song’s about rock cocaine.”

No, Dad. The song is about a golf shirt. Which is what you
do to a senator for $20 or some cocaine.

When I wake up to see a fat mosquito, I get pissed, like the
sudden need for vengeance. It’s not that I’m going to itch, it’s that the
little fucker stole something from me. I don’t care that it’s probably the
amount of blood I’d lose if I used cheap toilet paper. That shit is mine.

A mosquito at a blood bank would be like the ending of
Scarface.

Or a robber baron with Paul Ryan’s budget plan.

I’m still holding out for Occupy Various Administration
Buildings.

How about the Giants? Getting it done like a boss. Or like
several members of upper management.

And the Tigers got it done like tenured faculty.

According to George Carlin and the FCC, “tits” is a swear
word. I’m now going to start using it whenever I stub my toe.

I saw a sign for a missing dog named Jerome. You can’t get
mad at him. He’s just living up to his name.

Fashion Report: Neon green yoga pants say, “Look at my front
wedgie.”

Republicans are railing against Obama for high gas prices
and his investment in alternative fuels. And if I invented cold fusion, I would
so go on America’s
Got Talent.

And then update my OK Cupid profile.

I finally had someone freak out at me completely unsolicited. I'd been waiting for that to happen for over a year, and when it did, I was ready.

My brother has a butt chin, and I didn’t get that. I have a
butt nose. I just noticed it, and I’m not sure where this places me on the
freak spectrum. Help me out. Do you? Don’t look at the whole thing. Just the
tip. It’s ok, I promise. Please? Just this once to see what it’s like.

Roosevelt, what’s the
weather going to be like tonight?

“It’s going to be hot. Hot and wet. Which is great if you’re
with a lady, but it ain’t no good if you’re in…Sacramento.”

Whenever I clear my throat, I try to make it sound as close
as possible to Transformers.

+6 bachelor points

The idea of a woman having to take the man’s last name in
marriage is bullshit. I’d like my future wife to take someone else’s last name.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Mrs. Bono Takei

I think it’s the job of one out of five dentists to just be a
dick.

I’m surprised the internet has not yet produced a Mitt
Romney ad for Haterade.

And a Bill Clinton ad for Pimpacaine.

I’m not a snob. I drink Pabst Participation Award.

If my name was Mohammed, I’d feel awkward as fuck on school
picture day.

And if my name was Jesus, I’d feel awkward as fuck for being
white.

Problemas del mundo primero: Trying to offset my cabron
footprint.

It’s autumn. You know what that means. Bikini
weather.

GOP 2012: Ermagherd! Surf!

I think it’s less their unwillingness to accept science than
it is their unwillingness to accept anything Al Gore likes. We need him to come
out in favor of dicking the poor.

GOP 2012: Ermagherd! Serfs!

If I had all of the money, I’d buy Sean Connery and have him
sell Spanx on the radio.

Fallacy (adj): Republican

Paul Ryan strikes me as one of those scary gays. You know.
The kind you don’t want to turn your back on because they might try to
eradicate all gay people in order to avoid coming out.

Mak-a me nervous.

Anyone else still ride their bike while wearing an
unbuttoned flannel and pretending you’re Seattle’s
Batman?

Sunday, September 23, 2012

I wish I had a witty headline, like “Bono’s bits and Aram’s pieces,” but I guess I do.

Perhaps the thing that excites me the most about the term “roller coaster” is the possibility of there one day being a hover coaster.

I hope the Martians land on St. Patrick’s Day. Then they’d think we’re cool.

I was woken up by some people clapping, cheering and ringing a cowbell every few seconds. It turns out there was a marathon going down the street, but at first, it was like I was being applauded for sleeping. It was great, because you always hear about people who feel bad after sleeping wrong. I did it right.

But perhaps the best part about having a marathon go by your house is staying inside and making omelets.

Eggos are gross, but they have a hell of an advertising campaign, so they get away with it. When that came out, I bet the people in charge of marketing beans were like, “Shit. We were so close. ‘Leggo my legume,’ that would’ve been perfect. We would’ve sold millions.” They did, but it was because they made the product very small.

And before you get really mad and think I’m saying God is in advertising, he is.

Wafers don’t really project the most accurate image. The church should cut a deal with Powerbar.

This is the church.

This is the steeple.

Open the door,

Funny Name:

Heh, heh. "Seth."

Seriously, though, even pornstars are thinking, “Try again, mate.”

Stanford was forced to change their team name from the Indians to the Cardinal. I think it’s a good move.

I wouldn’t fuck with 11 of that.

Their reasoning was that it’s offensive to Native Americans, and I have enough straight white man guilt to agree. We should be sensitive to the needs of others, and we shouldn’t stop at Stanford. Edmonton is next. I don’t personally take offense, but the Oilers must really piss off polar bears.

I considered buying a Prius, but the technology just isn’t there yet. It beeps when you reverse. I’m holding out for the model that plays Juvenile.

I feel good about bringing sexy out because I know Timberlake will always be there to take it home at the end of the day. He’s like a DD, but only for sexy.

Fashion report: It appears that the tank top is making a comeback among sweaty motherfuckers who don’t care what they look like.

I have a farmer tan, but it’s not a very good one. It’s more like a guy who plants a couple tomatoes in the backyard that shrivel up and die when he doesn’t water them enough tan.

Ok, I give in. You can use the term Sacratomato if you agree to get dickslapped. It’s not even a good pun. If you want something that works, try

Sacramentos. It’s like that candy that seemed like a good idea in 8th grade, but now it’s mostly used to make shit blow up on YouTube. Come visit. It’s just like New York City if New York City was like Sacramento. Papa Roach was from about 50 miles away. And the circus has been here twice.

Problemas del mundo primero: Being able to get your steak cooked to temperature but not getting the same for tortillas.

I can’t be the only one who likes them medium-well.

Whenever there’s a new social media site, I join right away with my real name as my user name because I know that there’s at least one other person out there with my name, and if I get the chance to shaft a distant relative I’ll probably never meet, I will.

For those who slept through the '90s, here's how to make an online user name.

Step 1: Choose something you like.

Step 2: Choose a word or phrase that shows you like it.

Step 3: Choose the last two digits of your birth year. (This may be substituted by a number that shows you really like that thing you chose).

Step 4: Combine 1 through 3 with intentional disregard for grammar or dignity.

Examples:

Surfingluvr82

Blazin4lyfe420

Penguinsgivemeboners77

And if you’re just getting into this because you’re tired of waiting for the computer fad to go away:

Crochetvillain187

Damitfeelzgood2bagramma69

Jesusismypimp54

I’m a client of a Christian financial planning company. That’s not very settling, putting responsibility for profit in the hands of religion.

Wait a minute.

OMG

LOLZ

ROWLF

It blows my mind that such a thing as a “gay district” still exists. Like they live in their own ghettos. Fabulous, fabulous ghettos.

Sorry. I’ll try to write jokes.

If your dinner requires three utensils and they are all spoons.

Sorry. I’ll try to write sentences.

Spooning leads to sucking if you have a root beer float.

I get slutty for ice cream.

Sometimes I think about getting a Thighmaster. Other times I think about koala bears.

I like coffee, but I like it to be strong, which is not how Americans typically drink it. I’ve been using this new method that’s kind of like what the Turkish do and kind of like what a crackhead would do if he were looking to change careers.

I personally can’t see how we don’t have more rehab programs that aim to reintroduce addicts into society as chemists. From an industrial perspective, these people have already demonstrated their skill set, not to mention their resourcefulness and go-getter attitude. You don’t need to pay them much. Just let them use the company restroom and occasionally sleep under their desk. Before long, Monsanto will have an ear of corn that resists all parasites, gets you high as balls and doubles as a food product for the inner city.

Jamba Juice would be way different if fruit could talk. Then again, so would most things.

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Banana.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I would try to convince it.

“But sir, you are delicious. Take one for the food chain?”

I was so upset when I found out that wasn’t what Aretha Franklin was talking about.

“Come on, man. My stomach is relaxing. It sits like a hammock. I know you people are into that.”

Screams would be a lot more appetizing.

And vegetarians would be murderers.

I was a kid once, and Mama never said, “Knock you out.” She’d usually say, “Eek! What are you doing? Go outside! You’re getting blood on the carpet!”

Btw, if you submitted something to The Jigglybits Magazine, I feel sorry for whoever has that email address.

Old fuck moment: I have little hope for this generation. I think there should be a rule that we don’t give nuclear weapons to anyone who listened to Justin Bieber.

Some babies sound like Chewbacca. Others look like him.

Was Chewy even a him? I don’t recall any space junk.

I want a dog that doesn’t look worried when it’s taking a shit. I don’t need that pressure.

Rene Zellweger appears to be forever practicing for her future role as spokeswoman for Depends.

If you get a giant zit on your chin, you look like a dork. But if you get a giant zit on your chin and you have a beard, you look like a superhero.

So, bloggers are journalists now. That means I have to report on shit. So, in case you didn’t see it, this was the Democratic National Convention:

And the Republican National Convention:

Both of which promote ball chin.

I get really tanned in the summer, but only the parts that see the sun. I don’t commit all the way. I’m albino curious. It’s enough that if I went to the South, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to masturbate.

Cucumbers aren’t cool unless they’re refrigerated.

I didn’t know the guy from Creed tried to kill himself. Huh.

I got an invitation from the Post Office to attend a stamp show. Just because I buy something does not mean I like it enough to go to a show. And where the shit are all the invitations to cheese shows?

Piewrit (n): 1. One who creates illegal pastry, 2. One who steals legal pastry, 3. The long awated sequel to Seabiscuit

It’s been a long time. I think The Muffin Man has to have moved by now. Motherfuckers don’t stick around like they used to.

The best hold music hands down goes to the DHHS. It’s kind of like if Yanni made porn.

Babies come from sex. So use a condom if you’re going to fuck a stork.

The more you know.

The freakier you get.

Names that could also be things you have to pay extra for:

British translation:

Jack Skellington on weed: “I am the sofa king!”

I’m waiting for society to wake up one day and say, “Cats? WTF were we thinking?”

I saw a bumper sticker that just said, “Jesus is coming,” and then it had a phone number. I need three things:

1. A company that makes custom bumper stickers

2. The number of a gay Mexican phone sex line

3. A coke

It’s too hot for clothes. Neighbors, I’m sorry.

Or you’re welcome.

Problemas del mundo primero:

Sorry. I get kinda douchey when I get political.

Btw, republicans, is that still an ok ladybits action?

Mak-a me nervous.

I asked my friend, Amanda, if I could call her “Amandapanda,” and she refused. Anyone who doesn’t accept the nickname “Amandapanda” doesn’t know what cute is.

“Hey, hot stuff. What’s your name?”

“Jeff. But you can call me ‘Amandapanda.’”

Robin: “Amandapanda has unleashed her forces all over Gotham!”

Batman: “It’s like the cutest infestation ever.”

The superhero world seems a bit catty and insecure. Everyone is trying to one-up each other.

Superman

Ultraman

Man, Fighter 2 Turbo Hyper Fighting

Antman

If you haven’t seen the new Batman, Bain is voiced by Sean Connery going down on ProTools.

I’ve seen enough superhero movies to know what they’re doing. It’s all marketing. Next summer we’ll have another movie.

RoboScot

I heard a bit of this new song, maybe you can help me out. It goes something like:

I just met you.

And this is crazy.

But here’s my number.

I want to fuck you like an animal.

“My life needs to be more G rated… The world scares me :(” – my Mormon friend

Maybe I should start deleting people.

I’m a writer, which means I don’t have health insurance. I was walking across my kitchen the other day, when my knee started hurting. I immediately thought of all the shit I didn’t do. I didn’t exercise, so that was out. I didn’t take the lord’s name in vain.

Wait. Fuck. I did. That’s kinda what I do. There is a god. And he strikes about 24 inches from the floor. If you live on the second floor. People, if you value your ligaments, you’d better start going to church. It’s too late for me. But that’s ok. I’m pretty sure they can replace what’s broken with a part from a dead pig.

I still get CareerBuilder emails because I’m lazy about unsubscribing, and the most recent one offered a position as a bath fitter, which is odd because I don’t.

That joke is only funny if you’re over 6 feet tall. And if you aren’t, using the top shelf is like sex.

Names that could also be things you have to pay extra for:

Some companies get a bit too dramatic with their phone numbers. I saw a carpeting truck that said in big, red letters: CALL 499-HELP. This could lead to potentially fatal misunderstandings. Someone who is in legit trouble dials for help, and they get carpeting. At least they make same week appointments. That can’t be entirely bad.

I think I just wrote a 1970s porno.

I shall call it “Chick-fil-A.”

I like how some things are named after their creators: Allen Wrench, Mendelevium, Rubik’s Cube. I’m pretty sure that whenever Kevlar makes the news, some dude named Kev is going, “Yes! That’s my-lar!”

They can’t all be winners. If the Olympics taught us one thing, it’s that swimmers Nair.

Names that could also be things you have to pay extra for:

I got a smartphone, which I highly recommend because you can make your own ringtone. I made one that’s the sound of my phone on vibrate. It’s just like having it on vibrate, but it doesn’t move. I have a very sensitive upper thigh.

Plus I like to have people answer my phone as a practical joke, like a joy buzzer that doesn’t buzz.

“Hey, would you get that?”

“Um, dude, it’s in your pocket.”

“Trust me, you’re going to like this.”

It works great on the elderly.

I don’t have a microwave. If I did, I would record the ding and make it my ringtone in order to give those around me false hopes.

“Dammit, Bono. Fooled me again. I thought I was about to get a burrito.”

The microwave burrito is its own first aid. You just have to keep eating.

Shopping list:

Milk

Milk

Lemonade

There’s more, but I’ll have to go somewhere else.

Linguistics fans: “Jason Statham” backwards spells “butt sex.”

That’s the formula for Pig Italian.

Have you found Jesus? If so, we could totally make a killing.

Partial Sentences Taken Out of Context:

I saw a woman walking down the street wearing an “I < 3 ME” shirt. But I’m skeptical. I doubt she’s ever been to Maine.